Wednesday, December 09, 2009

Double 3

Well, gang, it happened. I turned 33 despite my best efforts to avoid it. I spent the days leading up to my birthday trying to forget the fast rate at which my eggs are dying. Thankfully my friends and family reminded me once again why I am the luckiest person alive.

Friday we went to Steph's for happy hour. She has recently decided to embrace Christmas, and she wanted to show us her decorations. And give us wine. It just so happens, I enjoy both of those things. Then she, Meg and I went to see New Moon again. Well, again for Meg and me. First time for Steph. She spent the entire time either lusting after Rob Pattinson or admonishing Meg and I for lusting after Taylor Lautner because it's "illegal". Whatever-Steph thinks she knows everything about the law since she went to law school. By the way, I was totally not sober for the movie. Awesome. How my being drunk made the movie different: my thoughts about Taylor Lautner were more inappropriate and, frankly, more surprising. Oh also I forgot that I threw a couple of Irish Cream Hershey's Kisses into my pocket before we left Steph's place so by the time the movie was over and I stuck my hand in my pocket, they were a nice melted pool of sticky goo. Whoops.

Saturday morning, Diane, Drew and I did a 5k. Doesn't that sound like an awesome birthday activity? No. It does not. I was totally tricked into running this thing because they gave us jingle bells for our tennis shoes. I mean, come on. Jingle bells! So Drew and Diane agreed to run it with me. As you know, I am the slowest and crabbiest runner in existence. But I had 2 goals for myself: 1. Run at least half the race. 2. Beat my normal 5k time. Oh wait-3. Not die.

I am happy to say I accomplished all three goals. And I did it without any whining. And by that I mean that literally every single thing my sister said to me, I told her to shut up. That was my only response. I essentially blamed her for how hard the running was. That is pretty reasonable. Fortunately, my sister knows me and knows I didn't really want her to shut up. And I mean let's be honest-even if I had actually wanted her to shut up, she wouldn't have. They teach you that when you become a little sister.

Immediately following the race, I retired from outdoor running in the winter. Because I'll tell you what. It was fucking cold. And it fucking hurt. Yeah. F-bombs. That's for real. Oh and a small sidenote about the race: there was a dude dressed in tiiiight running pants just standing on the corner watching everyone run. He was not running himself even though he was dressed like he was. Diane and I called him Package. If it's not clear why, let me just reiterate: his pants were very, very...very, very tight.

Saturday night, my friends absolutely refused to let my birthday go by without celebrating so they took me out. So many people came out, and I just want to say thank you so much to everyone. I am so lucky to have you in my life. I've said it before but seriously I have the best friends.

While at the bar, a bus load of Santas came in. I'm not joking. There were like 30 people dressed up as Santa, and they arrived on a bus-just like the real Santa. They were on a pub crawl. Also like the real Santa. One of them, while talking to Renee and I, found out Renee was pregnant. Then he asked me if I was. Mildly insulted, I said no. Then he said, "Do you want to be? RIGHT!? I'm Santa-I give presents!" then he high-fived me and said something about bare-backing. I was scared. Oh also all the Santas gave us candy canes which I thoroughly enjoyed. If there is one thing I love, it's taking candy from strangers who threatened to get me pregnant 5 minutes prior.

Sunday my family came over and took me out to PF Chang's where I ate my weight in honey chicken and fried rice. Then they showered me with too many presents. On Monday I came in to work and John had decorated my cube with Christmas lights and garland. See how it is hard to be depressed about aging when the people in my life are doing things like that?

Please look at this:

Is this not amazing!? Be cuter.

Fact: I LOVE Grover. Fact: He is the best character on Sesame Street. Fact: Saturday Diane, Drew and I went into a toy store, and I saw this and freaked out but didn't have my wallet so couldn't buy it. Fact: Diane was so heartbroken by my sad face after realizing I didn't have my wallet that she went back and bought this for me. Fact: I am 32-excuse me-33 and I love Sesame Street, the Muppets and stuffed animals. Fact: I am single.

I will leave you with this picture of the balloon bracelet that a guy behind the counter of Chik-Fil-A at the mall made me on Monday:

I wanted to thank you for letting me believe there is fun after thirty-one.

I am scared about being an oldie, everytime I go to the supermarket and see old people just hanging out being old and being slow in the aisle and talking like they've got all day, I usually run out screaming and crying - which means I have no food or Oil of Ulan, which is aging me superquick.

Anywho, thanks, I really need to start making my life as superfun and fairly random as yours - also, you seem to have a nice arm. That is all.

Adam, oh my God you're still alive!? Yay! I thought you had abandoned me. Yes I promise you can still have fun after 31. You will just need more sleep in between. I had to look up what Oil of Ulan was. Wait you guys have Oil of Olay products but they're called Oil of Ulan?? This intrigues me. We should discuss this more. Also...I am totally fine with being called Santa.

Hahah, I'm like totally alive. Actually, I've always been here but I chucked all my favourite bloggage into an RSS thingamigo which lets me read the goodness at work - but then I forget to comment and forget to blog and now forget to tweet (except for random birthday wishes).

RE: Oil of something. Looks like I dude'd that one up - asked some of the girls at work and it is called Oil of Olay, I think I used it's name from the 80s. I'm nothing if not current.

Uhoh, do famous bloggin' peeps still read comments from old posts? Nice job on the dunny, I just bought a place like an adult and am getting some Men Who Are Good At Men Stuff to renovate it - now I am totally, constantly covered in plaster dust as soon as I step in the door. Rad.